Performing a play about Paul Robeson in London's West End, knowing that he performed Showboat, Emperor Jones and Othello just around the corner in the 1920s and 1930s, makes me wonder what this pioneering performer would think of theatreland today and how it reflects contemporary society.

At the Unity Theatre in Mornington Crescent, Robeson performed in Stevedore in 1935 and Plant In The Sun in 1938, both plays about trade union activism. At the Westminster Theatre in 1936 he took the title role in Toussaint L'Ouverture: the story of the only successful slave revolt in history. These plays reflect Robeson's interest in issues and causes that remain of concern to us today, namely the exploitation of large numbers of people by small elites and, more importantly, the ways in which ordinary working people organised themselves to fight back.

One of the most overtly political plays currently on offer in the West End is Bertolt Brecht's The Resistible Rise of Arturo Ui, which brilliantly shows one consequence of people not fighting back – allowing big business and a charismatic leader to emerge in times of extreme austerity. That leader? Hitler. Given how the far right's influence is growing here and abroad, it would be great if this play could be seen by the populace in their thousands.

With ticket prices up to £65 a head, however, that's not going to happen. Despite all efforts to address the issue, the impression that West End theatre remains the preserve of the largely white middle classes persists. If anybody profits financially, it's the producers and venue owners. In a sad reflection of society, the workers – actors, technicians, ushers – get paid a pittance in comparison. One only need look at Equity's recommended pay scales to see that.

Touring around the country with my play, I've seen at first hand the suffering of many small theatres due to funding cuts. Call Mr Robeson was the last play at Croydon's Warehouse Theatre and I have performed in many other venues that are so cash-strapped that they don't have enough marketing budget to attract punters in sufficient numbers to bring in a decent box office income. Cue a vicious cycle and downward spiral to oblivion for many, while the West End continues to thrive.

All is not lost though and we can get inspiration from the stories that artists like Robeson tried to retell on stage. Take the Haitian slave rebellion where a people suffering the greatest inhumanity and exploitation possible defeated their oppressors. We saw that repeated in South Africa some decades ago and in various parts of the Middle East more recently.

But even in Black History Month, we hear little of inspiring stories such as the Haitian slaves triumphing over British, Spanish, American and French armies in their long campaign to independence, not to mention the details that could make this a wonderful stage drama.

One of the speakers at our ongoing Paul Robeson: Art is a Weapon festival, recalling Robeson's fascination with the Haitian revolution, reminded us of a pertinent historical fact. A Polish regiment was sent to aid Napoleon's forces in St Domingue, but when they got there and saw the troops were fighting not to "liberate the people" as they had been led to believe, but to oppress them, many Poles refused to carry on fighting and joined the slave army instead.

Picture a struggling venue or company somewhere in Britain with large numbers of black and Polish residents working with local playwrights and developing a play for a large cast of local residents to re-enact this fascinating story. The potential for bonding a diverse community around the theatre, engaging with hard-to-reach audiences and increasing the level of public support in their fight for survival against cuts is huge.

That's just one idea from just one story. In every community, a wealth of histories can be mined for such work. Oppression of one group by another will always be with us, but so too will be the shared humanity that theatre is uniquely placed to awaken.

Without it, we risk finding ourselves in an increasingly barren land as libraries, hospitals and jobs disappear around us and as more theatres and (if utility companies have anything to do with it) towns go dark too.